


Identities

by lzg



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Slow Burn, second loves
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-06
Updated: 2018-12-22
Packaged: 2019-07-27 03:02:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16210037
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lzg/pseuds/lzg
Summary: Who you are and who everyone thinks you are aren't always the same.  And "everyone" includes you.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is basically a way to get down some head canon about how Boba Fett could be an unabashed Good Guy (for a Rogue One definition of good guy) working for the Alliance, in love with Leia, and still be a feared bounty hunter working for the Empire. I have other scenes plotted out in my head, but putting them together into something coherent is going to be a bitch. Also, me writing a het main pairing is too weird.

_3 ABY – Alliance Medical Frigate just outside the Rishi Maze_

They’re making their way back from the observation lounge when Leia is stopped by two people in the Alliance plainclothes uniform. The man, in his mid-thirties, and the woman, a few years younger than Leia, are plainly related. They both have the hard, direct stare that Luke associated with the special ops teams General Draven ran. He’s not sure, but he thinks he’s seen the man around before.

“Princess. We need to talk.”

Leia glances at the man, then at Luke. “Luke, this is Colonel Jaster Mereel and Lieutenant Ailyn Vel from Intelligence. They’re familiar with Boba Fett and have been helping us figure out his next move.” Luke gets the feeling that Leia is choosing her words carefully.

“Let’s move this to a quieter, place, shall we?” Vel motion them towards a small conference room off the hall.

“Are you the same Lt. Vel Wedge mentioned? Something about breaking a blockade?” Luke says, and immediately regrets it. Vel lets a smug, satisfied grin emerge, while Mereel—her father, he has to be—clenches his jaw, narrows his eyes, and practically growls at Wedge’s name.

“Buir, if I’m old enough to be running ops with you to Nar Shaddaa, I’m old enough to—“ Vel starts to snap before Leia interrupts.

“Yes, let’s talk about your mission to Nar Shaddaa. What did you find?” Luke gets the impression that Leia just deliberately defused a growing argument.

Mereel waits until the door is closed and locked before answering. “Good and bad news, princess. Bad news – Vedel Porkins is dead. Our contact on Nar Shaddaa found the body.”

“Damn.” Leia slumps down into a chair. “I knew it. Vedel never would have gone rogue. Never. After his brother…”

Mereel inclines his head. “You were right. The good news…” He breaks off to glance at Luke and back at Leia, plainly asking if she wants to include him.

“He’ll need to know if he’s going after—Fett.” Leia’s pause is slight, but leaves Luke wondering what she was going to say. “Luke, the secret we’re about to tell you is something known by General Draven, Mon Mothma, and the people in this room. You tell no one, understand?”

He nods, now very confused.

“Whoever you encountered in Cloud City wasn’t Boba Fett, but an impersonator. He stole Fett’s armor, stole his ship, stole his name. What he doesn’t know is that the man he stole them from wasn’t the real Fett either.”

Luke suddenly senses where Mereel’s story is going as the man flashes him a smile that's all sharp teeth and something in his Force presence focuses down to a keen edge.

“I’m Boba Fett. I’ve been working for the Alliance for sixteen years, and I’m very displeased that someone murdered my friend and stole my face.”


	2. Chapter 2

_14 BBY – Concord Dawn_

There were a few benefits to one’s partner and mentor in the Protectors being posthumously exposed as a serial rapist. Boba was on desk duty until his and Lenovar’s whereabouts were fully accounted for his entire tenure in the Protectors, which made getting home on time to Ailyn easier. (If Sin hadn’t taken off after that bounty, he wouldn’t need to worry about getting home on time every day.) Almost no one was talking to him, letting him get the day’s paperwork done quickly enough that he could put in plenty of time at the range. (The ones who glanced at the holo of Sin and Ailyn on his desk and asked sympathetically where they were made him need that time.) The woman who’d beaten Lenovar to death with a wrench had been particularly emphatic in defending Protector Mereel. ( _Just a naïve kid who hadn’t known better,_ she said, _leave the rookie alone._ **Naïve. Rookie.** )

At least the work day was over. The best part of his day was about to begin.

Boba knocked on Rufo’s door, hearing nothing from beyond the sturdy duralloy. The spy-eye swiveled out and he turned toward it, helmet already off. His identity clear, the door swung open to reveal a chubby little girl in messy braids staggering toward him. Ailyn stumbled, but he moved fast enough to catch her, his reward a screamed “Bu!” and little arms around his neck.

“Her cough cleared right up, Jaster,” Rufo rasped from the doorway. “She’s been tearing around all day.” The retired Zeltron Protector may have been short a leg, but he was perfectly capable of keeping up with the children he watched. Empathic abilities, good aim, and a secure home: The few Protectors who used his services were grateful for all.

“Thanks, Rufo. Sin might be picking her up early tomorrow.”

“I’ll keep the eye out. Night.”

Boba turned to walk back home, Ailyn jabbering away in his arms.

*****

Boba loathed the stereotype of a male who lived on takeout and lacked any kitchen skills. The simple, nourishing meals his father taught him were easy to make, allowed for optimum nutrition, and massively reduced the chances of being poisoned by an adversary.

“Bu!” Ailyn was pointing emphatically to the kitchen holoscreen. “Wan bu!”

It would keep her occupied while his fixed dinner, so he pulled up Sin’s last transmission. Ailyn cheered from her high chair.

_“Good morning to my two favorite beings in the universe!”_

“Morn bu!”

He moved around the kitchen, setting bizet noodles to boil—

_“—but I found him in the last place you’d think someone like that would know about—“_

—frying the chopped nerf—

_“—got him to Alderaan he’d triple my bounty, cash. Talk about bantha poodoo—“_

—grinding up the vegetables so Ailyn couldn’t pick out the ones she hated—

_“—Imps karked up the paperwork, but at least the cred transfer went through—“_

—and mixing everything together. Not pretty, but neither of them cared.

_“—back in three days. Love you both!”_

“Love bu!”

“Okay, Ailyn, food.”

She pounded down the meal, smearing sauce and noodles everywhere. He didn’t see why Sin made such a fuss about eating neatly; they just bathed Ailyn in the evening anyway. Boba gingerly picked her up and walked to the fresher. Still, she was getting more coordinated. He sometimes had to put a bit of thought into dodging a flailing foot or fist. Maybe they could start putting together a training program for Ailyn. He knew he had the old Cuy’val Dar curriculum somewhere; if they just stretched out the timeline…or not. Sin would probably object to live fire exercises.

Trying to remember and record his father’s training techniques, and figuring out how to best adapt them to the current environment took up the rest of his evening. Ailyn had long since passed out on the cushion beside him when the door chimed.

He called up the viewer. Fenn Rau, the head of the Protectors…and Fenn Shysa, the Mand’alor. Kriff. Whatever brought those two here at this time of night was not going to be pleasant.

He put Ailyn in her crib, in her sling, the go-bag with his armor and larger weapons on the floor. If he had to go out the window, the bag would go first, he’d shield Ailyn…

“Good evening, Protector Mereel.”

“Protector Rau.”

“Seriously?”

“Mand’alor. I don’t believe we’ve formally met before. My name is Jaster Mereel.”

Shysa visibly caved, rolling his eyes. “And a fine name it is, too. May we come in, Protector Mereel?”

Rau was not an ebullient man at the best of times and Shysa actually looked serious in the light of the front hall. Kriff, this was it. They were either going to banish him or publicly reveal his identity. Damn it, they couldn’t afford a decent nanny droid, not that Boba would trust one, and Ailyn needed someone to watch over her for another few years at least. Where were he and Sin going to be able to settle—

“It’s about Sintas Vel.” Shysa’s delivery was so quiet and unexpected that Boba felt himself gape for the briefest instant.

“She’s on a job. One of her old contacts, Artus—“

“Artus Klandu. The Imps killed him, too.”

“Too.” He felt the world freezing around him, the edges fading, everything centered on that word.

Shysa had gone from serious to openly mournful. “I’m sorry, Boba. The ISB executed Sintas Vel two days ago for espionage and collaboration with the Rebellion.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've noticed that Fetts in general have a very highly developed sense of vengeance. This can be useful.


	3. Chapter 3

_2 weeks earlier - Concord Dawn_

“Damnit, Boba, I need this. I’m going crazy sitting here with Ailyn, waiting for you to come home. I need to start hunting again.” She was checking her old gear with abrupt, angry movements, grunting satisfaction as the power packs all registered fully charged.

“We agreed that when Ailyn was eighteen months—“ Boba tried to keep his voice down. It was easy; Ailyn was finally asleep after so many renditions of Vode’an and Cuyan Dralshy'a that his voice was about to give out.

“No, you said that, and I said that we would talk about it later, when we had a better handle on the situation. It’s later, we have a better handle on things. You’re on desk duty for the foreseeable future, we know Rufo is trustworthy, Artus can’t trust anyone else with this bounty, and my cut for less than a month of work will be more than you make in a year.” She finished reassembling everything and turned to him with a clenched jaw. “I need to start reestablishing my rep, Boba. Not all of us have the Fett name to do the work for us.”

That was not fair. He’d had everything planned out and even without his notoriety, she had plenty of time—he stopped. He looked at her, really looked, read her like a target. Tired, frustrated, worried. In his mind, he compared the woman before him to the woman he’d first seen kicking a Trandoshan in the head and stunning her Besalisk companion into the floor. They’d been arguing more and more, about smaller and smaller things, maybe…maybe she was right. Boba glanced at the commset, the message from Artus. Klandu was honest, as far as bounty hunters got, and he did need a partner in this.

Sin followed his glance and her voice softened. “You know that out of the three hunters he trusts not to screw him out of the bounty, I’m the only one who won’t turn that guy’s wife and kid into collateral damage.” She wrapped her arms around him. “How do you think you’d do, not hunting, no field work with the Protectors, sitting at that desk day after day for a year and a half?”

He didn’t need to guess. A week in and he was already chafing at the boredom. The pleasure that came with researching and running down leads over a comm was absent when he knew he wouldn’t be the one to follow up on them.

“Ailyn will miss you. You’ve never been gone more than a day.”

“She’ll have you. And I’ll comm whenever I can. I’ll be back before you get off desk duty, I promise.” Sin smiled, knowing she’d won.

*****

Sin had smiled.

“No.” The word comes out flat, his father’s training snapping into place, forcing him to move forward in any conditions, even unbearable agony. Boba doesn’t scream. Not even in his head.

“We have confirmation. They won’t release the body, obviously, but—“

“Sintas and Artus weren’t in the rebellion. Sin had just started hunting again two weeks ago, and Artus wouldn’t get involved in politics for any price. Whatever reason ISB gave, it’s a lie. They _lied_.” His mind was moving forward now along familiar paths, the task providing him with enough distraction to push his feelings down. “That bounty. The Imperial scientist. He wasn’t an embezzler like the posting said, or the loser in a political struggle like they figured.”

Boba turned abruptly, walked into the kitchen, mostly unmindful of the men at his back. Sin’s last message. He turned on the holoscreen, played it back in full. Sin’s face beamed out at him, and he had to close his eyes.

“Good morning to my two favorite beings in the universe! Well, Jaster, as you can see, I’m safe and ready to head back. For a little while we thought the target was going to slip away while we were finishing recon. I mean, they must have figured out something was up, because they tried to run, but it was a pretty bad attempt. The wife and kid got away clean, not that we were even trying to catch them, but he went to ground. Artus thought for a little while that we’d lost him, but I found him in the last place you’d think a scientist would know about, Jaster, some underground fighting ring. Kinda odd, but it was an easy takedown at least. Got him secured in the hold pretty quick.

“Kriff, when he woke up, he started spouting all this crap about how if I got him to Alderaan he’d triple my bounty, cash. Talk about bantha poodoo. The only people who’d have that much would be nobility or high business. Like they’d care about some researcher who was on the wrong end of a bureaucratic infight. I let Artus deal with him, and I guess he kept trying to convince him, but seriously, who cares? He finally shut up once we landed. The handover went easy for once. I mean, we have to go back today because the Imps karked up the paperwork, but at least the cred transfer went through on time. Damn, did it ever. I’m thinking we can start looking for a house of our own when I get back. Artus will take me direct to the Concord Dawn spaceport, so I’ll be back in three days. Love you both!”

Why would the Imperials transfer the creds, let them get back to their ship, and then pull them back? Boba rewound the message.

“—I guess he kept trying to convince him—“

The target had kept talking. Either the Imperials wanted to keep what he’d said under wraps, or they were so worried that he might have said something…Klandu kept a recorder on in his hold. Never knew when someone would let a useful piece of information spill. He turned to Shysa.

“What happened to Klandu's ship?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter I did before my appendix exploded. Hopefully things will pick up a bit.


End file.
